I had to go work that morning, and I left feeling numb. I couldn’t even think. How was I supposed to think? That whole day was filled with shock and sickness. The day after that I realized what happened, I was drugged and raped by someone I thought I could trust.

Next morning he bought us all croissants and took us all for breakfast, he paid for mine and then he walked me to my train to go home. His only words were "Last night was fun huh?" I say "Um… You did me… Without protection…" I kinda giggled a bit, nervously and he replied with "Yeah but whatever, no biggie. Plus, you were the one wiggling your butt and asking for it, dirty little girl!" after a wink… I got on my train, got home, told my mother what happened and she said "Well, you know what you were going to London for!"

I was closest to my Grandmother. We didn’t talk much, but I never felt the need to always talk with her. I was comfortable with her, and thinking back now I think she was the only person I was truly comfortable with. I trusted her. It was my Grandmother who realized something else was going on. I was pregnant. I may, or may not have fallen down the stairs, but one thing is for sure. I was raped. We didn’t discuss it.

So I immediately got off of him and said I didn't want to have sex. I'm pretty sure I even apologized. I said it multiple times because he incessantly argued with me. Something about that I HAD to let him. I had to let him finish. I couldn't be a tease. I kept saying no! I can't. I don't want to. No. Sorry. No. The more he argued the more afraid I felt, and the more rapidly I started fading. Then I told him that I really needed to sleep. I was about to pass out I physically can't. No. In my mind I reasoned that it all would be over then. When I passed out he'd realize it wasn't happening and he'd leave.

I may have been intoxicated but I KNEW this was not what I wanted.
I asked him to stop, and unlike so many other stories, he actually did.
Because of this, I never considered it rape.
I still don't even know what to call it.
But I know it wasn't right.
I know it wasn't consensual and I know he took advantage of me.

I woke up naked, confused, and with a blaring headache. Next to me is this guy, naked as well. I check my phone, it's 5 a.m. I get up and leave. I call a friend, because I'm alone and scared. He said, "you know how you get when you drink. I doubt it was for

I still find it hard to not think it was my fault, to not think I was leading him on, to not think I was stupid to be there alone and perhaps I was but a normal person would not have date raped me…..they may have taken advantage in a "normal" fashion but I would have been coherent and able to fight it off, call for help, run away…whatever.

The next day I left to my own city and got a rape kit done. The clinician there informed me that because alcohol was involved " it would be more harm than good to report this to the police." " You'll just end up spending a year or more in court reliving the experience, and you likely won't get anything from it"

When I did crawl into bed he started to stir, I mentioned that I was home and safe. As soon as I had made a comfortable little cocoon for myself he was pinning me to the bed with his knees forcing himself in my mouth.

Turning off the lights and putting on the movie Speed, she retreated to the living room where she completely forgot about us. How the event came about is a mystery to me, but the four boys eventually ran out of things to occupy them and decided to experiment with me. Some older and some younger than me, they pinned me down, removed their and my underwear and simulated a gang rape.

After a little bit of time has passed, his friends pin you down as they lift up your shirt, lift up your bra. They draw a “smiley” face on your breasts and stomach. Your nipples are circled— the eyes, your bellybutton— the nose. And just above your pubic hair—the smile. You wiggle and scream, but they are bigger and stronger than you, not to mention they outnumber you five to one. You cry and they laugh. You feel both embarrassed and ashamed.

I still get nervous if sex isn't on my terms or if I'm at all unsure about it. I sometimes don't go to parties if I'm not certain that I can leave when I want to. I've had more supportive therapists, but I'm still not over it, and it's been almost three or four years. I feel like I don't deserve to call myself a rape victim because I didn't say no. My rapist doesn't consider himself a rapist. I don't like telling the story because I'm always afraid someone will say, "That's not rape. You just made a stupid decision." I've since realized that I've done this before; the second time I had sex, no one asked my permission. The guy just stuck his penis in me without even asking if I wanted to use a condom. I was inexperienced. I just went along with it. I thought maybe that was how people who'd had a lot of sex had sex. And now that I know it wasn't okay and that it wasn't consensual, I feel so stupid and unsure about almost every subsequent sexual decision I've ever made.

Having a “friend” turn into an aggressive monster forcing you to do incredibly intimate things while you beg him not to is terrifying. When I woke up, I noticed the clothes I had been wearing were on the floor and I burst into tears because I knew that I didn’t wake up from a nightmare I could forget, instead I woke up to a horrible reality.

The When You're Ready Project is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories and have their voices heard, finding strength in one another. When you're ready to share your story, we will be here.